


Painful Remembrance

by Zairazruari



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alqualondë, Angst, Drabble, F/M, First Kinslaying (Tolkien), Kinslaying, Mother-Daughter Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 04:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21130613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zairazruari/pseuds/Zairazruari
Summary: It's a beautiful day in Nan-tathren, but a kinslayer's thoughts are never beautiful.





	1. Chapter 1

**FA 5, Nan-tathren**

For Eámanë, escape was always found in the forest. There, alone, she went, seeking solitude as she was wont to do in the recent times. Her light feet brought her flying across the grass, leaping through the willow branches, running and running until she felt the distance between her and her family long enough. Their insufferable mooning over newly-born Serkemírië was getting on her nerves.

She scoffed unpleasantly upon remembering. What was so good about that little bundle of fat, skin and bones? What was so special about her that made Alatāriel and Súrion forget that, _hello_, they had another child? Eámanë knew that she did not look like a youngling anymore as her childhood years were spent happily in Valinor...but, at the moment, she felt as vulnerable as a child. A child that had to grow up too fast and needed her parents love right now more than any lump with red hair ever did.

At that thought, Eámanë self-consciously fingered her lush chestnut hair. _Even this marks me as different, separate from my family_. It was beautiful, yes...but nothing like Alatāriel's golden hair or Súrion' auburn locks, the exact same shade that the useless baby now had growing on her head.

Full of exasperation, the jealous elleth kicked a pebble hard. It flew in a graceful arc before hitting a small tree. A surprised rabbit jumped out of the grass, ears perked up and ready to run at any sign of danger. Eámanë stilled and gradually crouched down, extending her fingers to beckon the rabbit over. Slowly, the curious animal drew nearer and nearer until it was rubbing its soft fur against the elleth's hand. Seemingly more confident, the small rabbit jumped up on her hands, allowing the delighted girl to embrace it.

After a while, the novelty of the situation wore off and Eámanë settled down on the slender branch of a willow tree overlooking the waters of River Sirion, still stroking the downy fur of her new pet. With the sunlight warming her face and staining the back of her closed eyelids read, she let her thoughts wander. 

> _Clumsily, two childish hands wrapped around the hilt of a sword. With a heavy tug, Eámanë lifted it. Or at least, tried to. Her small body was unaccustomed to hard tasks and could not follow her mind's command. Here in Valinor, peaceful as it is, no one really needed to practice their swordplay. Not that that deterred many of the Noldor from dabbling in it, her father included._
> 
> _At that thought, the child looked at her father with puppy dog eyes, trying to convey the idea that he should be helping her. Did he not want her to become a self-sufficient lady and a great fighter to boot?, the look pleaded._
> 
> _Súrion smiled indulgently as he stood up from the shaded area he was sitting in beside his wife, Alatāriel, and made his way to his daughter. He gently pried Eámanë's hands off the sword and placed them on a child-sized bow. "That one, love, is out of your league yet. Maybe archery, for now."_
> 
> _The child poked her tongue out, obviously displeased with the switch, which only served to make Súrion smile. After poking his daughter's nose with his finger, he bent down and whispered, "Don't worry. Someday, you will learn how to fight with a sword. After you manage to hit ten bulls-eyes in a row, probably?"_
> 
> _Eámanë stiffened when the challenge was issued, proudly lifting her chin. "I can do better than that, Atto! Fifteen, by the end of this month!" From her vantage point in the shade, Alatāriel laughed, seeing her beloved start teaching their only child how to hold a bow. When the first arrow Eámanë fired flew into the woods behind the target, she wasn't the only one laughing._

Eámanë rubbed her eyes tiredly. That was a good dream, or should she call it a flashback? After all, it did show the past. Happy days in Valinor, before her sister, the _pest_, was born. The trip to the past showed her first experience with weapons, something that the elleth treasured.

Contrary to what she boasted, it had taken her more than one month to master the bow enough to shoot any number of bulls-eyes in a row, but master it, she did. Súrion, being true to his word, trained his daughter in the ways of fighting with a sword. She took to it naturally, showing an aptitude for spotting weak points in a person's armor. Like the way a cold wind gets into the smallest holes in a warm jacket, he used to tease her.

Rubbing her new pet rabbit's soft coat, she laid back down and contemplated the times when her skills had saved her, the times when she was thankful that her father managed to teach her well. Of all those instances, none stood out as much as the Kinslaying.

> _ Alatāriel had been separated from her husband and her child. They were traveling with Fëanor's company and she had been distracted upon seeing the land she grew up in. Of the Teleri originally, Alatāriel had a special fondness for the sea and Alqualondë, and barely managed to leave it in favor of living with her Noldo husband. However, when fighting broke out, neither Eámanë nor Súrion could find her._
> 
> _When Eámanë asked her father why he was so frantic (for surely Alatāriel could take care of herself) he only managed to grit out, "Your mother might be pregnant. We were going to tell you but circumstances haven't been...conducive for such news." Eámanë could only stare at him disbelievingly, angered that something like that was kept from her for so long, before running off to find her mother alone. _
> 
> _It had not been more than five minutes when she came upon the main body of the battle. The scene was grotesque, blood staining the ground, the buildings, and the ships of the Teleri. She had never seen so much blood. It ran like rivers through the streets, dripping down into the waters of Eldamar, staining it red. Elves were taking down their fellows, their kin, their brothers. Someone was shouting that the Teleri started the fight...but why?_
> 
> _She scanned the area frantically. There, a flash of blonde hair! Alatāriel! Eámanë's eyes narrowed sharply. Her mother was clutching her stomach protectively, defending her and her pregnant womb with a mere dagger._
> 
> _Abruptly, she stilled, stood as her father had trained her and nocked an arrow, automatically making sure that the cock feather was positioned correctly. She sighted her target, an ellon brandishing a sword at her mother, and released the bowstring. The first arrow had not hit the ellon yet when Eámanë nocked the second one and fired it. The first hit the ellon's shoulder, causing him to drop the sword. The second went straight through his heart, severing an artery and killing him._
> 
> _**Kinslayer**._
> 
> _A shiver went down her spine as the implications of what just happened finally got through to her. An enraged cry caught her attention, alerting the distracted elleth to a Teleri bearing down on her, sword raised. Eámanë threw her bow around her shoulders to keep it safe and drew her sword without thinking. She parried the stroke with a sideward slash and used her left leg to kick the other elf off balance. Swiftly, she ended her opponent's life by driving the blade through the other's neck._
> 
> _**Kinslayer**._
> 
> _No time for that, her mother was still in danger!_

_Memories–_they always had a way of sneaking up on you. Eámanë retched angrily, still disgusted with the things she had done. Such vicious cold-hearted killing she never knew she was capable of! When her father had found them that day, his hands were stained too...but not as much as hers. She had not left her mother's side and refused to let Alatāriel even think of hitting another person. Even if it's the only thing she could preserve, her mother's (and by unfortunate proxy, her future sibling's) innocence had to be maintained. In the end, only a small pile of bodies attested to Eámanë's mad skill with a sword.

Since that day, everyone, even her parents, looked at her warily. As if they expected her to start killing everyone in sight. _As if they were innocent._ In order to live with them, she found herself having to erect a wall to keep them and their hypocrisy away. "I live with sheep", she muttered.

Suddenly, the elleth noticed that there was something cold in her hands. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized that she was holding the dead and mangled body of the curious little rabbit from early that day. Without realizing it, Eámanë had squeezed the life out of the small animal, probably due to the tension her memories brought to the surface. She eyed the now-cold animal curiously, trying to think of a suitable reason for killing such an innocent thing. _Oh...well, oops?_


	2. Chapter 2

**What Have I Done?  
****FA 5, Nan-tathren**

Their group had set up camp in the junction where the rivers Sirion and Narog met. All kinds of gorgeous flowers filled the air with their sweet scents and the graceful weeping willows provided bountiful shade in the area they had chosen. One could live in that place forever and never get tired of the sights. But the extraordinary beauty of Nan-tathren, source of eternal delight for most of their kind, failed to distract Alatāriel.

The small form of her older daughter sneaking away in the distance worried her. Eámanë had been different since the birth of Serkemírië in the wastelands of Helcaraxë. That had been a very difficult time and their precious baby had almost died due to the unforgiving cold that characterized the Grinding Ice. At that point in time, Eámanë had been distant -- still caring for her needy mother and (reluctantly) for her younger sister, but distant all the same. Even Súrion, who admittedly was the one closer to their child, could not penetrate the wall that Eámanë erected around herself. She had become as cold and hard as the rocks that surrounded them in those unfortunate times.

But, no, the change had began earlier than that. Alatāriel's last memory of her daughter being happy had been in Valinor. Before they had left to follow Fëanor's misguided ideals. Before they began to regret their decision and yearn for their home. Before the Kinslaying.

The elleth closed her eyes tightly, willing the faint ache in her head away. She knew for a fact that she had been lying to herself when she puzzled over the cause of the change in her daughter. That was just hopeful pretending; she knew the exact reason.

Elven eyes were sharp and hers had picked out the fact that her daughter had been suffering from the consequences of her actions in Alqualondë. The others around them had been vicious in their discrimination against her daughter. They themselves were not innocent in the affair, but for some reason, they forgot that fact when faced with Eámanë. "She was protecting me!", Alatāriel wanted to shout and curse at them. "She is the only reason I and the child you delight in are alive! Some of you even might even owe her your lives!" She wanted to scream, but she didn't.

Truth be told, the sight of her daughter delirious with fury and bloodlust shook her to the core. Eámanë may not know what she looked like while she was fighting, but Alatāriel and all the other elves near them knew. Through the streaks of blood that marred her face, her daughter's deep blue eyes had shone with an almost manic light. A small smile had played on her lips while she hacked and slashed her way through an opponent's body. A cold wave shot through Alatāriel when she had seen her daughter lick a drop of blood off her lips, and grin as she sliced an ellon's hand clean off his arm. These actions, though unconsciously done, had scared her deeply since they showed her a side of her loving child that she never knew.

* * *

After the battle, her daughter stood on the deck of a Teleri ship, face and body rubbed free from blood and gore, dressed in clean clothes. Her eyes had stared out into the vastness of the waters, straining to see land. Her face had been bleached white and her teeth were constantly worrying her lower lips. Eámanë looked so lonely, so alone. Alatāriel had seen all this from a distance and had approached her daughter.

"I regret it, _Amme_.", her daughter had whispered before turning away again to look over the sea. "I don't regret saving you, but I regret all the blood I've spilled."

At the sight of her daughter's wan expression, Alatāriel wanted to enfold her in a warm embrace and tell her that everything was going to be alright, but as her hand neared her daughter's shoulder, she stopped, remembering the sight of Eámanë's crazed fighting. She wanted to comfort her daughter, but she didn't.

* * *

When their group had split off and their family, along with a few other elves, journeyed to greener pastures in Nan-tathren, Eámanë had withdrawn deeper into her shell. Nothing could make her walls falter. Even Serkemírië's child-like innocence failed to bring thaw her down. If anything, it served to push her even farther away, though, for all their wisdom, no one could figure out the reason why.

Eámanë had taken to slipping off any time she could. Alatāriel wanted to call out to her daughter and ask her what was wrong and if she could help...but she did not know the words to start. She wanted to start fixing the rift between them, but she didn't.

Now, as Eámanë made her way back into their camp, holding a dead rabbit solemnly, Alatāriel wondered what would have happened if she acted upon her impulses. If she had done all the things she wanted to do...but didn't. When her silent daughter dropped the stiff animal upon her feet and walked away without a backward glance, a tear fell from her eyes. _What have I done?_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This was inspired by Tolkien's masterpiece and was originally posted almost 9 years ago in an online forum, hence the original characters. The forum itself has been down for months, so I wanted to a place to...keep my old writing safe.


End file.
